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"You've made some progress.I'm impressed."
He shrugged."It doesn't seem like enough, but it's something.Flynn is also going to run Juliette Sabatini through our systems.I need her ID.Do you have your bag?"
"It's right behind you."
He turned around.Seeing the ID sitting in the open pocket, he took it out and then scanned it through an app on his phone.Then he sent the scan to Flynn.When that was done, he put the ID back in her bag and said, "Did you find anything up here?"
"Nothing of substance.There are definitely no paintings up here."
"Then maybe you should call it a day."
"I will, but I need to clean this up first.My grandmother will not want to see this mess when she comes home.A place for everything, and everything in its place.Her favorite expression."
He smiled."I heard something similar from my grandmother."
"It's funny how they're so alike and we're so different."
He wondered if that was true.He was starting to understand what drove her, and it wasn't all that different from what drove him."Maybe we're more alike than you think."
"I don't know.You're much more detached and able to compartmentalize than I am.Although, you have been jumping to conclusions today, which is more my thing.I'm usually more impatient than you to get to an answer."
"Or to get a date started," he teased.
"You were late.That wasn't on me.And I think we're done talking about that night."She paused, giving him a speculative look."It's probably easier to joke about the worst date of all time than to talk about what's really on your mind."
She was starting to know him a little too well."I have a lot on my mind that I'm still trying to unpack and put into the right compartment," he admitted.
"I know how much you care about your grandfather, and that this latest information has upset you.You don't always have to be the calm, cool FBI agent.You can talk to me."
As her gaze clung to his, he realized that he wasn't feeling anything close to cool and calm.But it wasn't thoughts about his grandfather that were shaking him now.It was Isabella, her beautiful, earnest brown eyes, her silky hair glistening in the light from the single bulb hanging from the ceiling, and the tantalizing smudge of dirt at the corner of her mouth, her soft, very kissable mouth.
He was suddenly obsessed with that smudge.He found himself clenching his fists to prevent himself from wiping it off with his finger or maybe with his mouth.
"Nick?"she questioned."What are you thinking?"
"You don't want to know," he said tensely.
The air crackled between them as he felt a strong, impossible to resist, pull in her direction.He had to fight that pull.Or did he?
Isabella sucked in a quick intake of breath, desire flashing in her eyes, as she read the intent in his gaze, and he knew he wasn't the only one feeling the attraction.What had started out as intense dislike now felt like the complete opposite emotion.The sparks that had been simmering between them since they'd arrived in Italy were no longer from anger but from want, from need.
He could feel her body moving toward his, or maybe he was the one moving.Who could tell?
All he knew was that suddenly his mouth was on hers, her breasts against his chest, her arms sliding around his waist.
The kiss was more than he'd imagined filled with searing heat and intense emotion.One kiss led to a second and a third.He couldn't seem to stop.He wanted to keep tasting her, touching her.He wanted to take her breath away, to lose himself in her, to escape from everything that wasn't her.And she seemed to be right there with him, until she wasn't.
She pulled away so abruptly he almost lost his balance.They stared at each other, their breathing ragged and fast.
Her eyes were lit up, her cheeks flushed from their heat, her mouth pink from their kisses.
Her body was saying yes to everything, but he could see her mind overriding her feelings, and he felt more disappointed than he would have imagined.
"We can't do that again, Nick," she murmured.
"Why not?"
Indecision ran through her eyes."Because we shouldn't."
